


Without You

by RipplingReader



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: American Sign Language, Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing, Self-Hatred, literally none of this is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipplingReader/pseuds/RipplingReader
Summary: Ever since Virgil left the Dark Sides looking for a better life, he hasn't been quite right. Put residual feelings for his ex on top of that, and that's just a recipe for disaster. Unfortunately for him, the universe wasn't feeling too kind to him when said ex shows up because he's being self-deprecating to try and comfort him.But then again, Virgil never was good at accepting help, was he?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Frankly, I'm not entirely sure what this. It's rather self-indulgent though, and that is all I have to say for myself. It's literally just Virgil being a sad boi, so that's fun.
> 
> Warnings: past relationships, morally gray Remus (but he's not actually in this, only mentioned), self-deprecation and hatred, no happy ending

It was a good decision, wasn't it? It had been imperative that he leave; the toxicity, or rather, what he convinced himself was toxicity, was good to leave. But to leave had been like separating kinetic sand; grains of him remained with them, and grains of them had embedded themselves in his skin, and he couldn't bring himself to wash it away.

A week later, Virgil was still convincing himself leaving the so-called Dark Sides was a good idea. That leaving  _ Janus _ was a good idea. Of course, Remus did exist too, but he'd always caused Virgil excessive amounts of anxiety--as if he needed more to deal with. He was just so  _ unpredictable _ . But for all his lies, Janus had always been a constant, unmoving rock.

Virgil had never been good at moving on. He was Anxiety, after all, and looking back on past times, rethinking them for some embarrassing moment or for the pain of not being able to go back to simpler times. Back before Remus and Roman had split; before there was the Dark and the Light; back when he was Fears, and when Janus was Self, and Logan was Learning, and Patton was Feelings. Oh, how he wanted to go back to the easier times when Thomas wasn't an adult and fending for himself in a world practically out to get him.

The pictures that littered his room was perhaps the best indicator of this. Framed, tacked, or taped on the wall, or laying around on some random surface, pictures old and new obscured more of the room than the furniture. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing to have them; they did, after all, trigger him, but he wasn't sure if it was good or bad type triggers. It was a variety of both, he supposed.

Each picture was well cared for, though it might not seem it, specifically with how they rested on the floor. It was chaos, perhaps to a hard-core organizer such as Logan, but it was organized chaos, and it wasn't as if any of the other sides were going to come in his room, not after the first--and last--incident. Janus was the only one with unlimited access to his room, but he supposed that had changed now. Why Janus would want to visit Virgil after he'd burned their bridges so effectively was beyond him.

Virgil shook his head, pushing away the thoughts. But in pushing the others away, more came. The room  _ reeked _ of the deceitful side. The bed, where they'd laid countless times, feet tangled in the sheets as they watched movies, belting the villains' songs. The closet, where some of Janus' clothes resided from when Virgil had stolen them and never returned them, shoved in the back. His makeup set, with the colors he had once used so plentifully, adorning his face with murals. He couldn't even bear to use more than the black smudged beneath his eyes. To think of painting his face like how he'd used to would be to remember the numerous times he'd done up Janus' face to match his. Even the books he so loved were tainted with Janus' touch, many of them having been gifted from him to Virgil. It wasn't good either, considering that Virgil's favorites had all been gifts; Janus knew his taste in books like the back of his hand. But to read one be forcing himself to remember.

Being in his room was painful for all the objects that bore the touch of the deceitful side, but the most painful of all had to be the objects that had Janus' scaled face on them. Virgil was a photo collector, there was no denying it, and, therefore, he possessed of his former best friend and, though he shuddered to even think of it, his former boyfriend. Virgil's fingers stroked the picture frame of their own accord, feeling over the peeling paint and layers that he had so painstakingly painted with Janus, one side to each one of them.

A drop of water landed on the picture, and he hastily wiped it away from the glass. The photo was oriented to landscape, and it depicted Janus pressing a kiss to the anxious side's cheek causing the latter to become a blushing mess. Virgil had been talking about some long-forgotten subject that caused him anxiety, and the deceitful side had simply told him everything would work itself out and that he wasn't lying before pressing his lips to Virgil's cheek. As expected, and perhaps the outcome Janus had wanted, Virgil shut up, going bright red. Remus had been walking by, naked except for a scarf around his neck, an occurrence that happened more often than needed for the two other sides, and snapped a picture. It had taken some bribery involving promises of deodorant for a month for them to get the picture. The frame, meanwhile, had been an old one Janus had found in his room, and they had each painted one side of it. The color combination, though a bit odd to the passerby, was so uniquely  _ them _ that it hurt.

With a pang, Virgil threw the picture to his side, the object bouncing on the bed. He buried his face in his hands, hoping that blocking his vision would somehow keep the onslaught of thoughts and memories at bay. Perhaps it would be best to leave his room and its effects? No, he'd nearly forgotten, Janus was allowed in the Light Side commons now, though he wasn't a frequent visitor. It was too risky to go out, better to just wait for the inevitable argument that would have Janus slithering back to the Dark Side, making it safe for Virgil to emerge. He'd barely held it together to finish out the video, albeit a bit on the hostile side. He was still guilty about that. Janus hadn't deserved that hostility, but he'd panicked. He would need at least three days' heads up to mentally prepare, and appointments were still closed indefinitely, thank you very much.

But the lack of mental preparation was nothing more than an excuse. Janus was, after all, a part of Thomas, and he would therefore roam about their host's mind, even there was a divide. And as Anxiety, he should be prepared for worst case scenarios, even if not so long ago, that wouldn't have involved seeing Janus. Far from it, if Virgil was being honest with himself. But a lack of mental preparation was also not an excuse for being irritable. He should have-- _ could have _ \--done better. Could it possibly hurt so much to actually be a good person?

_ God _ , he was such a failure. He couldn't even hold it together around something as trivial as an ex and instead hid in his room. And the other sides had accepted Janus, albeit grudgingly in the case of some,  _ why couldn't he _ ? The other sides had accepted  _ him _ , he should return the favor. They had accepted him as a part of the family; Janus should be no different. And here he was sulking in his room, too stupid to face the real thing. He  _ should _ be strong. He  _ should _ be brave.

He was a coward, he decided. A coward and a failure, a waste of space, and a waste of energy. Worthless and useless and--

"My, my, Virgil, still telling yourself those lies? It  _ certainly _ doesn't seem tiring." Virgil whirled around, a difficult task in a bed that only ended in him getting so tangled in the sheets that he fell over and gave up, staring at the ceiling. Janus chuckled, and chills ran up Virgil's spine at the familiarity of it.

"What do you want?" Virgil hissed.  _ No, no, control. He had to have control. If he wasn't in control, he was failing, and he couldn't fail. _

"I wish for nothing. Your lies called me." Janus folded his hands in front of him, looking expectantly at Virgil. The anxious side half-heartedly tried to push the blankets off himself.

" _ So _ ?"

Janus shrugged. "I simply came to check on you." Virgil tried to hold down the sick feeling of how familiar this was. He bit his lip; Janus couldn't know what he had been thinking about. It was his own fault they'd broken up in the first place. He shoved the blankets off himself, huffing and sitting up.

He went to open his mouth to tell Janus to leave before thinking better of it. Janus had always been easy to talk to…far too easy. If he were to open his mouth, who knew if he would be able to hold back from venting like how it used to be? His chest constricted, and he fought off the panic.  _ He had to get Janus out _ . Instead, he used something easier.

He bent his hands slightly, one just below his chest and the other arm at his side before closing them into a fist and pulling them across his body, thumbs sticking out.  ** Leave.  ** In a second thought addition, he laid his hand flat against his chest, moving it in a clockwise motion.  ** Please.  **

Janus looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He pointed at Virgil, putting one hand flat and putting the other perpendicular on the other, rocking the vertical hand back and forth as if he were cutting something.  ** Are you all right? **

Virgil held up his right hand in front of him, ring and pinky fingers folded down with his middle and index fingers stuck up, thumb perpendicular. He brought the fingers down to his thumb twice like a mouth, slowly shaking his head.  ** No. **

Janus had his hands in fists down by his waist and horizontal, putting them down twice as if putting something on a table. Then, one hand cupping the other that was in a thumbs-up position, moving it forward as if passing Virgil something.  ** Can I help you? **

Virgil repeated his previous action.

Janus' fingers curled into a circular shape. His palm shifted to vertical, pinky and ring fingers held down to his palm, middle finger facing out at about a forty-five-degree angle, index finger and thumb sticking straight up.  ** OK ** . He bit the corner of his lip, giving Virgil a sympathetic look before turning on his heel and leaving.

Virgil sighed, falling back on the bed. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, hadn't he? Janus was gone. But, he supposed, maybe he'd wanted to have the deceitful side contradict him and refuse to leave. He wasn't sure what he would have done if that happened. Maybe it'd have just turned out worse.

He sighed, chest deflating. His eyes watered, despite him wiping them away furiously. For his short time here, being with Janus had been like going on a high. And now he was falling again. Falling too fast. Endlessly. It felt like he was falling into a pit bound for Hell, if he wasn't already there, that is. Or maybe he'd crawled out when he'd freed himself from the Dark Sides.

But had he freed himself, he wondered. Had he even made the right choice? Because, yes, he'd gotten on well with the Light Sides, but it hadn't been good in the beginning, and he supposed he'd been happy with the others. Sure, Remus' antics weren't exactly the best thing, and frankly, he scared him, and yes, Janus lied, but they had been all he'd known. They'd been more than enough.

_ And then he'd left _ .

He wasn't sure what had caused him to do it. Well, maybe it was a mix. Maybe it was from finding Remus had practically destroyed his room looking for something, even if he could snap it back together. Maybe it was because of his and Janus' fight that had led Virgil to storm out saying they were done. Whatever it was, whether it had been building or a flight reaction, he had packed up in the middle of the night and left. His room had followed the next day, the door appearing next to Logan's and scaring the shit out of Roman.

His eyes flicked from the pictures he could see across the walls when he craned his neck. He could see the hole in the ceiling from when Janus had accidentally thrown a pencil and made it stick. He could the hooks and wire for the fairy lights Patton had helped him string up because he didn't like the dark. He could see the murals Janus had helped him paint because he hadn't been able to stand the plain black. He could see the quotes Roman had made in his fancy calligraphy. He could see the flowers Janus had gotten him for their anniversary a while back, never wilting. He could see the books that Logan had lent him.

He put his hands over his eyes, blocking it out. Everything in the room rang with Janus, but things had begun to crop up from the others. It felt like a fight between Janus and the Light Sides. And it was tearing him apart.

A weight settled harder on Virgil's chest. He felt wrong. Like he had to pick a side before the baggage from both broke him. He wanted to scream. He didn't want to choose. He wanted to wipe everything clean and start again.

His mind slipped, dam breaking. Janus had always kept things clean despite everything Remus had done. And his mind was off. Picking at memories and plucking them from the shelf as Virgil had to relive each one.

Janus' face swam in his mind, the human side of his face hard and cold, cheeks blown red. He was yelling words cast silent in the memory, but Virgil knew them by heart. He felt his chest tighten. Breath came in rasps in his memory and in his life. Everything shook. Hot tears ran down his face as he yelled back, words harsh, and  _ oh, how he wished he could take them back _ . And he was storming away. Storming away and shouting how they were done. How he hated him. How he couldn't stand him. They were lies, they were all lies, and Janus hadn't been able to taste, tongue spitting fire instead. He wished he could've.

He relived it again and again, noticing new details each time. He was stuck on repeat.

He remembered a lot of things, but it always came back to this.

He let out a choked sob, pulling himself up so the snot wouldn't run down his throat. It was a wail and a scream and a cry, and oh, it was the call of a broken man. Janus should have tasted the lies, but Virgil shouldn't have voiced them. Shouldn't still tell them even now.

He still loved him, he realized. He still loved him, and he'd ruined it. He'd left, and he couldn't go back. They wouldn't take him back. He couldn't go back because he liked it here, but god, how he wanted him here too.

Virgil was broken. So, so broken. Devoid of old secrets and containing an eternity of new ones inside of him. He didn't deserve what he had.

He deserved to be without Janus after what he'd done. Perhaps it was cowardice, or perhaps it was some sort of twisted urge to be noble.

He deserved to relive the memories. He deserved to suffer.

And the others didn't deserve to be products of his self-destruction. They would never know. He would suffer in silence.

Virgil was broken, and Janus tasted the lies on his lips. Virgil was broken, and Janus had a bitter taste in his mouth. Virgil was broken, and Janus was breaking from the weight of lies Virgil kept.

Virgil was broken, and Janus was too.

The two were broken. And they were the reason each other suffered because of misguided beliefs.

They thought they kept the other from suffering by doing so in silence.

They only broke each other more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Kudos and comments also give me life, if you'd be so kind. If you need me to tag any warnings or triggers, please let me know. And if you see a typo, call me out on that. If you wish to find me elsewhere, I am RipplingReader on Wattpad and strugglingispointless on Tumblr.


End file.
